


*Quis Custodiet* Who Gives a Rat's Ass?

by catwalksalone



Category: The Losers (2010)
Genre: Developing Relationship, M/M, POV Outsider
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-06
Updated: 2011-05-06
Packaged: 2017-10-19 01:45:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/195519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catwalksalone/pseuds/catwalksalone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pooch watches.</p>
            </blockquote>





	*Quis Custodiet* Who Gives a Rat's Ass?

  
The nightmares start when they're stumbling through the jungle trying to make it out of Buttfuck, Bolivia, to somewhere that at least has indoor plumbing. Since the bird went down no one has said much beyond basic communication needs, not even Jensen, but Cougar...man, Cougar hasn't spoken a single word.

He's speaking now, though, huddled in a tight heap underneath the dark canopy of trees in a makeshift shelter Pooch and Roque managed to throw together before they lost the light. Muttered strings of Spanish all mixed up with anguished cries that make the crash replay behind Pooch's closed eyelids and break his heart all over again. No one can sleep through it, but none of them move either. It's like he's not safe to touch. Like if they wake him he'll explode and they might not survive the fallout.

There's a rustle to his right and a muttered, "Sorry, man," as Jensen's knee collides with Pooch's shin.

"What are you doing, Jensen?" whispers Pooch.

"I don't know."

At least the guy's honest.

There's more rustling and Pooch can make out the barest outline of Jensen's silhouette settling down by Cougar. A few seconds later everything is quiet, Cougar's voice fading to nothing. Pooch should close his eyes again and get some sleep, but instead he pulls his night vision binoculars out of his vest and trains them on his friends. Jensen is spooning Cougar; knees tucked behind Cougar's, one arm thrown over his chest. Pooch puts down the glasses. Jensen's got Cougar's back on this one. Literally. It makes a weird sense to Pooch, but he doesn't want to think about it too much. He does close his eyes then, and turns over.

Clay wakes them in the morning with wild hair and wilder eyes and tells them they've got to get moving. No one says anything as Jensen peels himself off of Cougar, yawning. No one says anything that night either, as Jensen doesn't even bother to bivvy down by himself, just makes straight for Cougs and wraps himself around his back.

And so it goes. They hit the town of Asscrack and a crappy motel that's a small step up from sleeping in the jungle, even though it comes complete with its own freaky ecosystem. Pooch, Jensen and Cougar get to share. There's one double bed and one single and no question as to who's going where, and if there's an argument about who's taking which side of the bed, Pooch sure as shit doesn't hear it. It's not exactly the biggest surprise ever when Jensen and Cougar get jobs at the same place. The same spot in the assembly line, even. Pooch can't figure which way around this goes. It's not like Cougar needs protecting from the itty bitty plastic dolls, not Jensen, neither, but the hot chicas now, maybe that's a whole other thing.

Pooch has nothing better to do with his time than fret about Jolene and the baby, so he watches, trying to figure them out. He stumbles on them going at it one time, Jensen spread belly down on the mattress, mouth still going a mile a minute even though the words are muffled by a faceful of pillow, Cougar moving slow above him, his hands planted below Jensen's armpits and his hair brushing along Jensen's back. Pooch figures someone might as well be getting some and maybe it works best to keep it within the team. It's just fucking. Simple.

It's not the sex that bothers him. No, it's the time he wakes up the morning after they meet Aisha, sharp and uneasy at the edge of dawn. He sees Cougar huddled on the window ledge, head pressed close to bent knees. Jensen stands behind him, torso pushed up against Cougar's back, one hand tangled in Cougar's hair, the other Cougar clasps on his shoulder, their fingers entwined. This is something else. This isn't sex or even close. It's more intimate than that. That's when Pooch worries. That's when he sees that however this started it's gone somewhere there's no retreating from. Pooch may miss Jolene every day like a limb sawn off without anesthetic, but she's _alive_ , she's _safe_.

So when Jensen gets shot and Pooch sees how Cougar won't quite look the guy in the eye, but can't leave his side either, he knows he has to do something. Pooch tries. He does. He says he'll take Jensen home to his niece, get him out, keep him safe. Give Cougar something to not get shot for. But no: where Cougar goes Jensen follows, and now they'll probably all wind up dead because it's not like Pooch can leave them to it now, can he?

Pooch sits in his hotass van, bitching under his breath at always-agreeable Mojito. He takes out his night vision glasses and he watches.  



End file.
